


Revenge Is Best Served With Glitter and Dye

by MitchiBee



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: pre-fire Hales
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-13
Updated: 2017-10-13
Packaged: 2019-01-16 16:20:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12346248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MitchiBee/pseuds/MitchiBee
Summary: Nobody picks on a Hale and gets away with it. So when nine-year-old Cora has a bully problem, the Hales embrace their creative side when handling the situation.





	Revenge Is Best Served With Glitter and Dye

Cora loved school, as ridiculous as the statement seemed. Of course, she did enjoy the years when she was homeschooled by her mother. She had needed homeschooling longer than her siblings since she wasn’t able to control her wolf as early as they could. But still, physically attending school was different. It meant she could hang out with kids her age and participate in sports (now that she had enough control). After all, there was nothing better than seeing the look on the smug faces of those arrogant boys when a girl half their size beat them in soccer.

In her family, Cora was always one of the first ones up in the mornings. Well, she did have the earliest curfew. Mornings in Hale household followed a certain routine. Each morning just before the sun rose, the aroma of pancakes, eggs, bacon and other breakfast food swirled around the house. Assorted dishes would decorate the dining table. A buffet style breakfast catered the numerous family members. 

Once Cora's alarm rang, the youngest Hale would get dressed and packed her school bag. Meanwhile, her aunt and grandmother worked to start the day. Cora had a habit of being in the kitchen to greet everyone as the morning unfolded, usually enjoying French toast. Mom and Dad would leave for work. Uncle Peter would follow soon after doing god knows what... Her aunt would take her cousins to the private school in the next town and her Grandparents went for their morning walk.

It always ended with her waiting for the grumpiest Hale to come down. If Derek didn't have his sleep, he tended have this look all morning like he was sucking a lemon. Besides, the only reason she waited for her older brother was for him to drop her off at Beacon Hills Middle School. Otherwise, she couldn't care less about him always sleeping in to the last possible moment.

Glancing at the clock, she figured it was just about time to start the final phase of her morning routine.

"Derek. Der. Der. Dereeeeek," she called, rapid footsteps hammering against the wooden panels of the staircase, then the floorboards lining the hall towards his room. “Der-Bear!”

Choosing to ignore the fact his sensitive hearing could pick up her voice from the kitchen, she kept up this little ritual because well, Cora liked jumping on her brother’s bed till he responded. Prancing from the door onto his mattress, embracing her nickname of ‘pup’, the girl pushed her weight up and down while harshly tugging on his blanket.

“C'mon!  Derek! I don't want to be late!"

Today started no differently than the rest. Derek left her at school five minutes before the bell. Classes were easily understood. A’s and A-‘s all around. Cora expected it to go like any other day. Later at lunch, she’d beat Jackson and his friends at soccer. Everything should be the same, _except_  for last period. Since the day marked the start of second semester, the elective was different. So instead of music, she'd start taking art for the rest of the year.

Sprinting down the field, the nine year old had already slowed her speed to pass as a human; even so, she was still well ahead of the boys chasing behind trying to steal the ball she dribbled.

This was what freedom felt like.

Cora loved the wind in her hair, her thudding heart while she ran  _and_  the fact she was beating the boys five against one. Winding her leg back, she kicked the ball with precise aim, as usual. Leaving the final score, 6-2, when bell rang to signal the end of lunch.

"Yes!" came the excited cheer. Ignoring the groans and moans from the boys, Cora high-fived her best friend, pride and excitement lighting up her brilliant hues. "Told you I could beat those idiots, right, Caitlin?" 

The group's ringleader, Jackson Whittmore, a tall freckled face blond shot Cora a dirty look. "You cheated! No way a  _girl_  can be that good at sports." He gritted his teeth continuing to mutter bitterly under his breath using words she was sure she’d get a mouthful of soap if she used.

Giving the signature Hale eye roll, the brunette smirked. "God, don't be such a sore loser." With that said, she headed back into the school building for the last two period of the day. Shrugging off a chill, she wrinkled her nose when the breeze gently brushed against her nose. There was a scent lingering in the air, she couldn’t quite place it. The only thing she could be certain was that it was family. But then again, her sense of smell was among the least developed so Cora couldn’t be too sure.

Like always, math was a bore. But art... well art was actually really fun.

Twirling the color pencil in her hand, she finished filling in the basketball picture Derek was holding. Okay, so the ball wasn't exactly round but she was pleased with her family portrait. Signing her name in the corner with a blue color pencil, Cora held the paper, examining the brilliant artwork with a wide beam. A shadow lumped over her, blocking the light from the window.

"What's that suppose to be?" the voice commented with a snarl. "Is that- Is that suppose to be a person?"

Brown eyes peering upwards, it was none other than that bratty Jackson, followed around by his gang of idiots. "Move." Cora shot him a look. If he were smart, he'd back down.

"No." Jackson's friend grabbed the drawing out of her hands. “Make me.”

Apparently, he wasn't smart enough to back down. Surprise, surprise. Even a head shorter than the boys, she was more intimidating, mimicking the techniques she saw Laura use to get Derek to do what she wanted. "Give it back. Or else."

“C’mon Jackson, just give it back,” his friend, Danny, interjected. He seemed to be the only one with a conscience.

The sheet was waved above her head. If only that boy knew what she could do... Gold flashed over her irises, the petite Hale shut her eyes and took a deep breath.  _Don't phase. Don't get too mad_.  _You promised mom._  Even if she wanted to tackle and could tackle the other boy with ease… if she phased, she'd betray her family's secret. The hot-headed girl was trapped doing nothing.

She hated this.

"I figured out what your problem is." Jackson announced. "You're not a girl. You can't be."

" _What?"_ she snarled. 

Pleased with himself for getting her attention, the boy began to list his reasons. Everyone in the class was paying close attention. "Girls like to wear dresses and do their hair. Look at what you're wearing."

Glancing at her jean shorts and the plain t-shirt, one of Derek's hand-me-downs, she didn't see what was wrong with her clothes. Cora always thought Derek's shirts were more comfortable and preferred them to Laura's old ruffled tops.

Jackson continued his rant, gaining confidence and volume with each word. "Girls aren't better at boys at sports!" He gestured the picture again. "Plus aren't all girls suppose to be good at drawing? It's a girl thing!"

Tapping his finger on his chin, the boy was well aware he had everyone's attention and he obviously intended to use it. "If you aren't a boy then, I guess you're just a freak! A weirdo! I don’t know any girl like you. Cora is a freak. A freak!”

"Oh shut up!" she shot back.

Mom always told her not to give people the satisfaction of knowing they got to her. Cora balled her hand into fists fighting the urge to swing and hit him square in the jaw. Last time she punched someone she gave them a bloody nose.

"Cora is a freak. Cora is a freak. Cora. Is. A. Freak," the other boys joined in, slowly enclosing around the girl. 

Shoving her weight forward, she snatched the drawing back and pushed her way out the classroom, brushing past the art teacher who was coming back from the supply closet. Ignore the stern, "Cora Hale, where do you think you're going?" The girl ran straight to the bathroom, certain no one was inside. There were no other heartbeasts except the pounding in her own chest. Cora gave the toilet stall door a good kick.

She wasn't a freak. Not a freak.

Mom told her that she was unique... But all moms told their kids that, didn't they? Cora shook the thoughts away. "I'm a Hale," she repeated to herself quietly. "Not a freak... A Hale."

Sometimes she wondered if freak and Hale could mean the same thing.

 

Two months later, the teasing and taunting escalated. Several times a week, notes would be slipped into her locker with words like, freak, Weirdo or  ~~Cora~~  Cory Hale. Her artwork would go missing and be found the next day ruined. During art, there'd be times when someone accidentally spilled paint onto her clothes. Once, someone even dripped glue into her hair. At lunch, week by week, less people talked to her or invited her to sit, and more and more people believed what Jackson and his buddies said about her. Rumors followed her in the halls, different theories about her tomboy tendencies. She heard one about her being born with boy and girl parts where her parents raised her as a girl but she still had boy parts.

 

After weeks of fighting back with no result, she'd lost the energy to keep trying, spending most lunches in the library with Caitlin or hiding in the bathroom stalls. The only people who’d talk to her besides Caitlin were those kids Scott and Stiles from the other class. But even less people talked to them if possible because of this thing with licking a sandbox or swing set or something. They were nice enough but given her mood these past few weeks she didn’t need to be around someone who couldn’t shut up.

 

"I think there's something up with Cora," Peter said to his nephew, leaning over the edge of the lunch table.

Derek rolled his eyes and took another bite of his burger. "Great. So now you're stalking your nine year old niece?"

Ignoring his comment, Peter tapped his long fingers rhythmically against the metal. It wasn't obvious at first but lately he swore there was something different. "She's smells like soap when she gets home."

Arching his eyebrow, Derek finally gave his uncle attention. "Uh. What?" he questioned. "So you stalk _and_ sniff Cora? Does mom know about this?"

"Listen," Peter insisted, voice losing its casual tone. "You're saying you haven't noticed anything weird about your sister. Derek, you're the one who takes her to and from school,  _and_  the one who spends the most time with her. You haven't noticed anything off?"

Basketball season was at its peak. Lately, Derek split his focus between school, basketball and occasionally girls. So, he maybe he hadn’t paying as much attention or spending as much time with Cora but he had his own life. But since Peter brought up the topic, Derek realized that Cora was a bit different.

There was no little midget storming into his room jumping on the mattress until he reluctantly woke up. In fact, Mom all but dragged her into his car in the mornings. Heck, she even started to dress differently. But Derek just figured Cora finally entered that stage where she started to like pink. Around this time of year, the fridge would be covered with artwork. It was but Derek hadn’t found the usual… unique drawings of his younger sister. His chest tightened the further his mind lingered on all the clues.

His uncle was right—a statement that he never wanted to use again. How did Peter notice before he did? Creepy, stalker uncle Peter.  Derek vividly remembered the moment he made a commitment to his little sister. His mother held this small bundle of pink in the hospital bed and all his fears about being an older sibling washed away. He made a promise, like Laura before him, to watch over his younger sibling. “I’ll talk to her about it after school. Now stop taking my fries and get off campus.”

 

Knuckles red from her rapid scrubbing of her jacket, the red paint stubbornly clung to the fabric. “C’mon… ow!” Her finger caught in the zipper. A thin blood trail ran down her finger mixing with the red in the jacket. Choosing to suck on her finger till it healed in moments, the quest to clean her clothes was abandoned when she recognized the engine of Derek’s car. Going for plan B, she just stuffed her clothes into her backpack and changed to a spare she had gotten into a habit of bringing.

Derek parked the car in the school parking lot, leaning against the vehicle. Since the conversation with Peter earlier that day, the teen was hyper aware of his surroundings and every detail about his younger sister; from the leap of her heart when he approached the school, the fact she wasn't wearing this set of clothes when he dropped her off, the lingering scent of soap and just as she neared his car, the distinct stench of blood.

“You’re bleeding.”

“Huh?” Cora tried to play the innocent act. “Oh. I just got a cut.” Waving her finger inches from Derek's face to prove her point. Replacing his usual cocky grin, Derek’s brows furrowed, matched with lips pressed into a tight line. “What?” she asked, pasting a grin on her face. “Derek? You look like you ate a whole tub of icebreakers. You’re gonna keep looking so sour or are you gonna drive?”

Neither sibling spoke but the girl could feel her brother's hard gaze every so often and shifted uneasily. "Take a picture, it lasts longer," Cora eventually commented, slipping out the door in such a hurry that she left her backpack in the seat.

Derek studied the bag, pinpointing the faint blood scent. Yes, he was invading his sister's privacy. But he knew Cora. No matter how bad something got, his sister was far too proud to ask for help. Rummaging through the bag, his muscles tensed when he pulled out the jacket she wore earlier that morning. He froze, sniffing the red stain. It couldn't all be blood. The smell wasn't strong enough but... Pulling the clothes, he pressed his nose against the red stain. Relief pooled throughout his being when he was greeted by the stench of paint with soap. 

Bunches of crumpled paper beneath the clothing caught his attention. Unable to shake off the intuitive urge, Derek unfolded the scraps. A growl erupted from his throat with each note he read. Slamming the door of his car shut, he stormed into the house, backpack in toll.

"Derek?" Laura asked, confusion written all over her features. She hadn't expected this when she decided to visit home for the weekend from New York. Pushing her chair back, the oldest Hale sibling accepted the bag that was dropped onto the table and skimmed a few of the notes. Dangerously calm, Laura looked from the papers to Derek, back to the papers. 

"Told you." Peter stepped into the living room with arms crossed. The anger in the two younger wolves had drawn him into the room. "If I were you, this conversation should be taken elsewhere." He glanced up in the direction of Cora's room where music could be heard through the floorboards. 

The trio moved to the family cabin deeper into the woods to discuss their course of action. It didn't take long for a plan to be put into action. Using the scents that clung to the paper, they knew exactly who their targets were.

 

"What's wrong with your hands?" Cora questioned the following Monday, poking at her scrambled eggs. 

Derek ignored the statement and went to put his plate in the sink. Meanwhile, Peter cupped his own multicolored palms around his mug of coffee. "Nothing, Pup. Just eat your breakfast."

Cora couldn't shake the feeling that she was living in some conspiracy.  All weekend, Laura didn't spend much time with her like she always did and Derek seemed to be avoiding her too. Now, he was too quiet again. But, a different kind of quiet from last Friday. 

Stopping the car, Derek offered his lopsided grin and chucked his sister’s backpack to her. "I think you'll have fun at school today." 

"Doubt it," came the bitter response. Cora didn't find much to look forward to. What? There was the usual classes and hiding in bathrooms. Best plan ever. Really. Just great.

The second she pushed open the school doors. A burst of commotion blasted in the halls. “Cora! Cora! You have to see this!” her best friend’s voice called among the masses. Within a second, she was tugged to the center of the excitement. “Now that’s karma.”

“Whoa.”

Bright pink glittery paper decorated Jackson’s locker and those of his friends. Along the edges were silver tinsel and handmade roses, in swirly cursive words, handwriting she recognized as Laura’s. ‘I’m a pretty princess’ were pasted in the center of the locker. The remaining blank areas were covered with the _most_ embarrassing photos. A young Jackson hugging a teddy bear, one of the other boys captured him playing at a tea party with his sisters and in the center? The centerpiece was a framed photograph of Jackson in a Sleeping Beauty dress taken a few Halloweens back. Heck, she felt embarrassed just looking at the images.

Caitlin nudged the wolf and eyed the school office. “Now wait for it.”

“For what?”

“Just. Wait.”

The door swung open and the crowd of middle schools erupted in laughter. Cora bit down on her lip but quickly lost the resolve to try and hide her belly aching laughs.

Standing with a large hat covering his previously blond hair, instead of a middle schooler, there stood, for lack of a better word, a smurf. Jackson was covered from head to toe in blue. His skin was dyed blue. His hair was a brilliant red to match. The four other boys were an assortment of colors. With them all huddled in that area by the office, they genuinely looked like human sized crayons. Danny, Jackson’s best friend, forced his locker open and a flood of glitter poured out of the locker. Drowning him in an ocean of glitter pieces that stuck to the dye.

She kinda felt bad for Danny since he did try to get Jackson to stop.

But honestly, the scene was perfect.

Most importantly, Cora figured out who were behind it. The same scent she often caught a whiff of, floated by her nose. Cora scanned through the sea of people to the source. The corners of her lips spread into a grin. Eccentric or not, Cora had to admit if you left Uncle Peter and her siblings in a room, you’d get some crazy awesome results. The dyed skin prank was something Derek had experimented with a few years back and the elaborate lockers were exactly along Laura’s alley since lead the high school decorative committee.

“Thank you,” she whispered. Her uncle’s well-trained ears would pick up her thanks. They did. Once the teachers began ushering students to class, the scent faded and Cora supposed Uncle Peter probably went to share the good news… or go bug high school girls. One or the other.

 

Not bringing the subject up all through dinner, Cora made her way to Derek’s room right before her curfew. For once, she knocked.

Turning the knob, taking small steps, she planted herself on the edge of his bed. Passing her big brother the roughly wrapped chapter book she was saving for his birthday present, the younger Hale smiled weakly. She wanted to save it but Cora decided she wanted him to have it now, especially remembering that look on Jackson’s face when he saw Derek pick her up after school and the immediate string of apologized that followed.

Derek brushed his workbooks aside, waiting for Cora’s usual ramblings. But nothing came. She set the book on his bed. Standing there awkwardly, struggling for the appropriate words.

"Cora. You aren't a freak." Derek broke the silence, patting a spot beside him on the bed for her to sit. “You like sports and don’t wear ribbons and butterfly clips in your hair. So? Big deal. You shouldn’t feel ashamed of yourself for beating those boys either. Girls can be good at sports too.”

The brunette nodded, plopping down. “I know…”

“Do you?” Dropping onto one knee, he lifted Cora’s chin with his index finger, lightly tapping Cora’s forehead and the tip of her nose. “Mom and dad say it all the time. But you need to believe it. You are special. Cora Hale, you are not a freak. You’re a Hale. You’re my little sister. Don’t you ever change for someone else. Got it?” He ruffled her bangs playfully and grinned. “I will never leave you if you need me. Never.”

Skeptical for a moment, she ran the day’s events through her mind. Cora’s warm chocolate eyes finally meet her brother’s welcoming and sincere dark gaze. Finally nodding, Cora wrapped her arms around her brother’s neck. “Promise?” The word came in an uncharacteristic meek whisper.

“Promise.”

Lingering another moment, he lifted the nine year old swiftly. Derek’s strength made the task easy, even if she was getting a bit too big to be carried. Tonight, Cora didn’t really mind being the family baby and made no fuss. “Let’s get you to bed.”

Body melting onto her mattress as Derek set her down; there was a new lightness to her. Relief and happiness at the knowledge her family would always have her back. Cora flashed her brother a bright smile as he pulled the blanket up to her shoulders, gently tucking her in.

“Uh… Derek?” she asked in an airy voice, another yawn escaping. “You didn’t let mom and dad know about the whole Jackson situation, right?”

The older Hale cleared his throat, gently running his hand through his sister’s dark hair. Mischief dancing in his eyes, Derek planted a kiss on Cora’s forehead before answering. “Who do you think financed our little operation? That much glitter and dye doesn’t come cheap.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed a snippet into what I envisioned the Hale Family to be prior to the fire. This fic was inspired by Cora trying to do the revenge spiral on the door and that symbol not be as perfectly drawn as most the other ones by other werewolves.


End file.
